The Seven Days

Thursday's Demise - Part 3

So here I am, writing the last part of this diary about Thursday.
Surely if you're reading this, you might have more questions about Thursday.
And believe me, reader, I myself have more questions in mind, but have the least time to ask them, that's why I just asked the important questions to him.

So going back, after he asked me a lot of questions, I told him "It's my turn to ask now." and he simply said "Ok, professor Montonio."

"Can you tell me a little something about your, past?"
"Professor... I don't really want to talk about my past..."
"Why not? Did something bad happen before?"
"...yes, everything was bad before."
"Ok, so then tell me. And don't worry, if you're worrying about confidentiality, I won't tell anyone. This conversation is between you and me only."

Upon hearing his answers, I came to conclusion that he was from a poor family, born and raised in an unpleasant environment, and was made tough by the passing times in the said environment.

"My dad would always come home late, drunk, at most instances, and I have to tend to him just so he wouldn't be outraged, which is also the case most of the times since with me is my mom, waiting for his return every night just to know that he's either drunk or drugged."

"Surely, you must have seen better days, have you, son?"

"Professor, those are better days. Bad days were when my dad would come home drunk or drugged and they would fight, my mom and dad. They would fight not only by words but also by strength, and in most cases my mom would end up unconscious, and when that happens I would just run away and head towards my uncle's abode. He would then confront my dad and talk everything out, that is, if it is possible."

"I see. And this um, uncle of yours, is he also in the slums with you?"

"Yes sir he is, but unlike other people, he's there to help anyone in need. He's a soldier."

"Ahh yes, a soldier. So surely he must have thought you a thing or two about combat, am I right?"
"He--"

The escalating conversation was interrupted by the General's arrival.
He holds most of the operations held in the Hive.

"Professor! Good to have you back in uh, one, living piece.
I see that this child is the reason why your crew died and you almost died yourself?"

"General if you may, we are but having a conversation.
Surely you wouldn't want to interrupt it, no?
Oh and by the way, this kid is--"

"My name is John."

"Oh. Well then John meet the General.
If it isn't for him the White House wouldn't have funded the Hive and you would've stayed in the slums for the rest of your life, young one."

"Professor, seems like you're having a delightful conversation, meet me at my office when you two are done."

"Oh and one more thing, take care of that kid." the General added as he patted Thursday's head as if he was his own son.

"That General is a good man.
When I grow up, I want to be like him!"

"Oh young one, if you agree and if you live here with us, you'll grow up to be even better than the General will ever be!
We only have one condition."

"And what would that be, professor?"

"That when the time comes, when you're all grown up, protect our country, or even our world.
A great lifeform, or should I say a colony of them, is coming to our world.
We are uncertain of their capabilities, intelligence, or even intentions.
What we do know is that they are coming and we need to prepare for them.
And that is why I wanted to recruit you, John."

"But, I am just a little kid.
I am of no good use.
I only know how to fight, I'm not that intelligent like you, professor."
"That, my child, is what we're absolutely looking for."

Since then, he never came back home.
Never said a word to his family.
He found his purpose in life and embraced it tightly with the thought of becomming a hero, the thought of protecting the weak.
The thought that kept him running for the next twenty-four years.

-END LOG-